


Breezeblocks

by hellhoundsprey



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha Jared Padalecki, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Barebacking, Beta Jake Abel, Beta Jensen Ackles, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Cuckolding, Infidelity, Knotting, M/M, Married Couple, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rough Sex, Top Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27821977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: After months of doubts and suspicions, Jake ends up catching his husband red-handed when he comes home early one Friday afternoon.
Relationships: Jake Abel/Jensen Ackles, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 31
Kudos: 114





	Breezeblocks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isoughtyouout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isoughtyouout/gifts).



> Edit 2020/12/02: Altered the last scene a bit.

It’s another morning. Another bagel with cream cheese. Shared coffee on opposite ends of their tiny, trendy kitchen table.

“I dunno,” says Jensen, without looking up from his phone. “If Lara is okay with that? Sure. Whatever.”

Jake takes a bite of his food and washes it down with coffee, black. “Okay. Sure,” just to keep a momentum that isn’t even there. As if this wasn’t about Jensen’s weekend as well. “Thanks for your valuable input, honey.”

These days, Jensen doesn’t even bother to roll his eyes at him anymore.

It used to make him upset. Used to make him want to try harder, be better—more interesting, more engaging. Now, it just makes him furious.

Jake rotates his wedding band around his finger with digging pushes of his thumb, tucked away behind his elbow on the table.

Their little house. Their car. Their front yard. Their friends.

The hickey on Jensen’s neck is nearly gone by now. Just a shadow left behind. Doesn’t hurt any less, and yet, Jake can’t take his eyes off it.

(Jensen, leaving early. Jensen, staying late. The change in his scent he—at first—attempted to cover with new body wash, new cologne. Back when Jake himself still tried to find excuses.)

He prompts, “I should get going,” and his husband keeps tapping on his phone like he didn’t hear him, like Jake is invisible. After cleaning up after himself, Jake says, “See you tonight,” to the man who half-tries to turn away from the kiss Jake plants on his cheek. (Jake doesn’t mention it. Sometimes, he wonders what would happen if he did.)

It’s a nice spring morning, outside. Birds and pollen; sunshine. While he zips up his jacket, Jake smiles politely for the passing neighbor, walking her dog.

~

Steering wheel still gripped tight, Jake just—sits. One sip too many, maybe, to still drive himself home, now that he reevaluates his former decision. But, shit, today’s numbers were great. He deserves good things, too, every now and then. And he made it back home safe after all, didn’t he?

Mark ushered them out way too early today. Should’ve thought of that before he handed out the booze. Probably just didn’t want anyone around so he could bang the new assistant in peace. Fucking _Mark_.

Brunch, tomorrow. With Laura and Pat and their pups, with Steve and Fran and Will. Jake volunteered to bring their famous potato salad. Jensen will most likely want to have a drink, so Jake’s gonna drive the half hour each way. They’ll get back home in the late afternoon and watch some TV before bed. Snacks, maybe. Jensen’s appetite isn’t too big, lately. Jake’s gonna be the first one upstairs. Maybe jerk off. Nothing planned for Sunday.

Through the windshield, he can peer into the living room. Empty, nothing. Jake frowns, groans. Closes his eyes.

Maybe today’s the day you catch him red-handed. And why not, huh? Would be the cherry on top of this turd of a day. This week. Month. Hah.

Your life is such a fucking joke.

Jake climbs out of the car. Despite the buzz, he remembers to move quietly; blindly acquired habits. Egg-shell-walking. His own driveway, for fuck’s sake.

Silent with the keys, too. His forehead bumps into the door. Slow-motion turn of his wrist, of the key inside the lock. If Jensen is home already, maybe Jake will ask him (but God, it _is_ early, isn’t it?). Maybe they will fight, can have make-up sex afterwards. Hell, even _break-up sex_ would do at this point. (Used to be different, way back. Younger, both of them, and in love. Lust, at least. Something. They used to be good, right? Jake doesn’t remember. Doesn’t feel like it matters anymore.)

He can hear them the second he pushes the door open.

Just—loud, and. Jake freezes.

His stomach drops, and…for a moment, he wants to run. To throw up.

Head bowed, eyes on the doorknob wrapped in his hand. Jensen, upstairs; the bed. Their bed.

Jake’s face scrunches, hard.

He forces himself to breathe.

Jake lets himself in, eventually. Closes the door. Peers up the stairs, numb.

A shirt dangles from the railing. Jake doesn’t recognize it.

His head turns and he finds—a bottle of wine, red, on the kitchen counter. Two glasses.

A voice Jake can’t place grunts, “Yeah? _Yeah_?” and snaps him out of it, and Jake trembles, and he has just enough clarity to slip his shoes off before he makes his way upstairs.

Their house. Their staircase. The runner they picked because it was on sale and the right size, and it just seemed _right_ to have one in the hallway. It’s what you _do_.

Jake is highly aware—of everything. The sweat on the back of his neck, the pain in his throat as he swallows. The noises of them, fucking, loud and wet and devastating. Jake carries himself right up to the wide-open door to Jensen’s and his bedroom, and he just—stands, here. Listens.

Jen, Jensen; gulping for air he’s getting it so hard, babbling, “Please, _please_ ,” and then there’s a yelp and a struggle, and things crash into silence for a beat. Leave Jake with his blood storming in his ears, deafening and limitless and he stares—down, to his toes, the hardwood floor they paid a small fortune to refurbish when they got the place. It will be worth it, Jensen had said, trust me on this.

When Jake dares to lean in, glimpse inside, all he sees is—the other guy’s massive body.

The huge span of a back, blanketing Jensen nearly completely. Just the tangle of their legs hints that there is someone else underneath, until the guy pulls his knees up to straddle Jensen’s ass, rocks them together (“Like that, yeah? This what you wanted?”), and Jake—sees—

Alpha.

Jensen is shitting on their marriage with—a fucking Alpha.

Croaks, “Yes, yeah, oh fuck, _please_ ,” with his voice breaking on every other syllable, with him humping back on some Neanderthal’s _knot_. Jake can only imagine the size, judging by the guy’s general—everything. His stomach clenches sick.

That Jensen ever would— That he _enjoys_ —

Jake’s hand rises to clamp over his own mouth. His eyes are wide.

Muffled, “Please,” and the guy coos, “I got you, hold on,” and the next sound from Jensen is a sheer, strangled something. Jake nearly leaps in to stop, to help, but Jensen moans like he’s gut-shot, loud and long while the Alpha on top of him rocks his hips faster and deeper, grinds them so close it _can_ _nothing_ but _hurt_ , and yet—Jensen’s coming. Like the world is ending.

Well, it kind of is.

Low-laughed, “Needed that one bad, huh?” and Jensen sobs, “ _Yes_ ,” with all his soul, his entire body. Jake can see him flexing, shuddering; still not done. His legs jam together but the Alpha doesn’t let up on him, holds him by the hips and knocks his knot around in Jake’s husband’s ass. Has him tied, pinned, and Jensen—doesn’t even attempt to fight it.

Jake hears, “He can’t give you that,” and Jensen just sobs as an answer, and. Yeah. Yeah, man. “Just me, baby. So full of me, can you tell? How soaked I’m getting that tight little pussy?”

Again, “Yes,” and Jake hears them kissing more than he sees it. Can’t look away from the incessant throb of the Alpha’s balls, pumping deep and steady and, God, he worms his hand between them, tugs Jensen apart with a cruel dig of his fingers. Hums like he’s pleased, pulls back, pushes deep—Jake can see him turning the Beta nearly inside out, all that hidden pink blooming out and open. Jensen’s toes curl against the sheets. “Fuck, p-please—!”

The Alpha steadies his knees in the mattress Jake spent too much money on and snaps his hips too fast, too rough. Pushes Jensen down, practically buries him, and all Jake can hear is muffled-to-barely-nothing whines and whimpers. His suffocating, well-bred mate.

It’s—Jake can’t.

(No wonder it’s been—different, when they fucked. The few, short times Jensen even let him have any. The too-soft warmth of him, welcoming Jake so easily. And here he thought he had been a good partner, had Jensen wet and ready, but…none of that. None of that to his credit.)

Feels like minutes until the Alpha finally slows down. Until he slots his knees softer, rolls his body only minutely anymore. Jake’s husband’s quiet, “Jared,” and them kissing, holding each other. Tender, sweet. Like they have been yearning to do this, like it’s been way too long. Jake can’t even remember the last time Jensen didn’t complain about him not getting out and off him fast enough.

Jared. Huge, hulked Alpha Jared. Crashing someone else’s bond, easy as that. Getting his dick wet in someone’s husband and not even caring. Not even considering—the consequences.

Lord, he’s not even wearing a condom, is he?

“Baby,” careful and low and the air is thick with them, their mixing scent. Like buttered popcorn, mouth-watering and sickening to the core; Jared’s Alpha-stink getting soothed by Jensen’s smooth Beta scent, the tang of too much lube, of Jensen’s come soaking the sheets, his inner thighs. Jensen’s slick, too. So much of it. Jake’s cock aches just for that scent. “Baby, you okay? Talk to me.”

“Fuck you,” but it’s not cruel, not hissed. Half-laughed and they’re kissing again, and the Alpha chuckles low, and Jensen adds, “Love you,” like they’re all alone, like there’s nothing else. No one else.

Jake listens to Jared’s adoring, “Love you more,” to Jensen’s happy sigh.

Kisses, more kisses. God, they kissed a lot when they just started dating, didn’t they? Jen and him. Jake and Jen.

Giggled, “Fuck,” and, “Don’t do that. Tight enough as is.” The Alpha shifts, tugs his hips back. His knot must be going down because he can pull back further, bit by bit, and while the Beta underneath him moans miserably, it doesn’t look—too violent. Pink, yeah. Raw, yeah, but. Not cruel.

Jensen’s sigh. How he flattens himself, curls his hips out. Gives the animal something to rut against, some resistance for it to slam into him better, deeper.

Purred, “Love how tight you are for me,” and, yeah, Jake can tell—how Jensen’s body is still putting up a fight, even after being knotted. How his insides suck back at the slick length of Jared’s dick pumping into him over and over, fat and shiny with lube, slick, come. Messy and deep-red. “Can’t get this anywhere else, can you? Poor thing.”

Jensen is quiet. Choked-off. Jared’s back and ass flex and bulge with his building rhythm.

“Limp-dicked little husband of yours can’t give you this. So deep there’s nowhere else for me to go. Swear I can feel it grinding into the bed through your fucking stomach, fuck…”

Sobbed, “No,” and for a fleeting moment, Jake thinks Jensen finally wants the Alpha to stop with how he reaches behind and claws for Jared’s ass for that mean, too-low grind, but, “God, no, he can’t, never, Alpha, _fuck_ —!”

“All you’re good for,” and Jake imagines Jared yanking on Jensen’s hair, bending his head back. Keeping him pinned and steady while he’s pounding him, hard, like he didn’t already unload, like he could go _for hours_. Despite the intense fuck, his come is only just now beginning to (barely) seep out around the fat girth of his cock. Jake’s brain can’t grasp how deep he must have—how _much_ he must have— “Prettiest little bitch there is. _My_ bitch.”

Garbled, “Yes,” and Jake doesn’t imagine the loud slap to Jensen’s face. He doesn’t. It’s right there.

Growled, lost, “Tell me,” and Jensen sobs. The bed is rocking again.

“Your bitch,” sobs Jake’s husband, “nobody else’s, only you, only _yours_ , Alpha—I, I—”

“Coming?”

“Yes, God, oh—fuck—”

“Get it.” Faster, harder; Jensen chokes on his own voice, on the weight of Jared’s stench in the air. “C’mon, c’mon—yeah, there you go, _there_ you fucking go…!”

Jensen bucks in the limited space between bed below and the animal above him. His thighs squeeze together again, hard, and he shakes through Jared railing him like he’s trying to prove a point. Like he knows someone is watching, trying to get a good show.

Jake can’t think. Can’t process anything beyond the steady, heavy throb of his dick against the zipper of his pants. He catches himself grinding the heel of his hand down on it, but he can’t stop. Lost in the sight of his mate, coming apart on someone else’s cock. The hungry slap of Jared’s body, churning itself inside deep and excellent through the sweetest clench of Jensen’s surely spasming insides. Wet and hot and Jake’s stomach flips anew when the swell of the Alpha’s knot becomes obvious once more, when he can practically _see it growing_ , popping in and out of his husband. (I dunno, babe, I’m kinda tired—raincheck?)

God, he’s—Jake’s _never_. Jensen, good Texan boy Jensen Ross, timid and kinda stuck-up, and he’d been the first one to turn up his nose when word got around that someone’s Alpha kid was gonna stay home from college this summer, can you _believe_ , Jake, I mean there are _children_ around here, I feel like someone should _talk_ to them, y’know?

They’ve been estranged these last couple of months, sure, but _this_?

Jake doesn’t even _know_ him, does he?

“So good. So fucking good,” and Jake’s eyes feel wet, and he can’t look away. The guttural groan from the Alpha shakes him to his core, sends all hair on his body standing straight. Jake’s Beta’s pitiful, muffled whine when they tie, again. When Jared spreads his legs wide to get more range for his hips, truly drive them home. Raw, right inside Jensen’s cunt. Jensen, always so meticulous about birth control, even though he makes Jake put on a condom every goddamn time.

That throb again. Jared’s taint and balls working hard, loading Jensen up.

“Feel me,” orders the Alpha, and Jake can’t breathe. Low and dangerous and all animal, and he could snap Jensen’s neck, easy as that. “Fucking _feel_ me, Jen.”

Jensen is incoherent. Buried, full. Moves with Jared, against him; subconscious things, biology that doesn’t even make sense. Not for a Beta. Not for anyone—civilized.

It’s quiet for a while. Just them, breathing, coming down. The Alpha eventually groans, “Okay, I need a minute,” and Jake doesn’t expect him to turn around, reach for the phone still somehow balanced right on the edge of the bed, and.

Their eyes meet, then. Quick and painless.

Jake hides behind the door frame, but it’s too late.

His held-back breath burns in his lungs as he listens for—anything. Only Jensen’s ragged breath, though. The barely-there mirror of Jared’s.

Then, movement.

Jensen moans. “Thought you—needed a break?”

“Changed my mind.”

“God, _oh_ ,” and Jake can’t handle this. Is shaking anew, different, because—oh, Lord, he is gonna lose his fucking mind.

How dare this, this _beast_ , to, to, what—humiliate him? Provoke him? Is this him, saying ‘be a man and speak up’? ‘I can do what I want and all that’s left for you is to watch’?

Jake turns to see once more. The cruel moves foregoing the tie, the Alpha just—taking. Reveling. In something that doesn’t belong to it. Was never meant to.

Over the storm in his head, in his chest, Jake sees Jared lowering his head, hears him whispering something to Jensen. Jensen gasps, then, and scrambles nearly hard enough to buck Jared off, before the Alpha has mercy and rolls them to their sides.

“Jake! What the fuck?!”

All anger, no regret.

Jake’s feet step up by themselves. He’s just—numb.

He stares at them. At Jensen, tugging at a blanket to cover himself, them. Jared, looking Jake up and down—scoffing.

Jake makes a move to adjust himself in his pants. The Alpha keeps leering all smug.

“Honey.” Jake’s throat is tight. “What the fuck is this?”

“Well,” grumbles Jensen. “What’s it look like?”

Jake stops himself. Says, instead, calm: “Jensen,” and, “he needs to leave. _Now_. I don’t want him here.”

His husband half-clears his throat, doesn’t even look at Jake. “Too bad, ’cause he’s not going anywhere.”

The Alpha rolls his hips with emphasis. Jensen winces and slaps at his arm, which just makes him grin wider. “Yeah,” he says, “not within the next ten minutes, man.”

Jake growls, “Jensen,” and gets barked at, “Look, I’m sorry you found out this way, but it is what it is!”

Jake glares at them, his mate. The beast in his bed.

“Listen,” and Jensen’s voice half-breaks on another move from Jared. Jared, who kisses along his neck while he speaks, eyes on Jake, leering. “Listen, babe, I—I know this is fucked up, but—we both know things haven’t been so…so great in a while, right? I just, uhm, needed—”

“A knot, apparently. Yeah, I can see _that_.”

Jensen elbows a snickering Jared. “Yeah, but—it made me realize how, how fucked up we were, even before. But it can be _different_. Us.”

“That’s a very nice way of saying how you’re tired of me.”

Jensen tries, “Jake,” but breaks off with a shudder, with squirming against Jared’s fastening hold around his chest, his arms. “God, don’t—I’m _talking_!”

The Alpha suggests, “The way he’s drooling over how wet you are for me, you think he’s even listening?” and to Jake’s humiliation, Jared push-pulls Jensen until it’s visible where they’re tied, where Jensen is stretched visibly obscene even though the knot is buried _inside_ him. Jake has to swallow and Jared prompts, “Heh. Like I said.”

Jake looks at Jared, who has been glaring at him this whole time. Who is rutting absently (but steady) into Jensen like Jake being in the room doesn’t make an ounce of a difference to him. Both arms tight around the Beta, holding him. Jensen’s hand cups his forearm.

Jake wishes he’d had more than that one drink, back at work. “For how long?”

Jensen snorts. Jared helps, generously, “Couple of months.”

“‘Couple’?” Jake inhales; catches himself. Swallows it back down. Throws his hands in the air, wipes at his face. “Great. This is—great, Jen. Awesome. Good for you.”

A chuckle, hissed and amused and Jake’s sole focus returns to Jared, hiding behind Jensen, tied and satisfied and nasty with sweat, with Jensen’s slick. His eyes blink once before they are back on Jake. Smirk, hint of a canine. Jake is trembling.

This—animal.

This—Jared. Who curls like a cat, a snake. In a bed that isn’t his. Someone else’s mate. Someone else’s _life_.

Something primal in Jake wants to walk over, smash his head in. Wants to take his place. Wants to take back _what belongs to him_.

He doesn’t— He isn’t—

But he does. And he is.

Jensen, still tied to the Alpha, clicks his tongue. Clears his throat before he sighs, all wet; wipes his hair out of his eyes. Jake looks on, mortified. Powerless.

“Look, babe.” Jensen reaches out for him, even if weakly. “I mean, you can—jerk off while you eat me out once Jay and I are done here, but that’s—that’s all I got.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote [a sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476804)!


End file.
